


Closer than you think

by Crimson1, Notsalony



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Neighbors, Nudity, Tumblr Prompt, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9581720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsalony/pseuds/Notsalony
Summary: Len finally notices that the boy across the street who has a clear view into his apartment has been watching him.  However will he handle himself with this new wrinkle in his normal life?  While in the other apartment, Barry is being driven to distraction by the man across the way...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a prompt over on Crimson’s tumblr, and Nots just couldn’t help himself...

Len wasn’t sure how long the kid across the way had been watching him through the window.  He’d only caught him at the pastime they both shared: watching one another when the other wasn’t looking.  Sometimes just glances to see what was going on.  Sometimes something more.  He’d only really started paying attention when he was cleaning up from working with his at home gym one day and he noticed the other man staring at him from across the way with fascination at his bare chested body.  From there Len slowly discovered that he had quite the exhibitionist streak.  He’d stopped wearing shirts while he walked around the house.  Sometimes going so far as to only wear his boxers or, on one memorable occasion, just his towel from his shower, where he sat and watched some old show he hadn’t seen since he was a kid himself on Netflix.  Oh the way the kid’s mouth had fallen open as Len dropped the spoon for his ice cream, the kid standing near the window as he watched Len casually lay there all but on display for him.  That of course had led to a thought, a thought that changed things for the pair of them.  Len opened the towel and laid his body bare before his neighbor.  Oh he’d thought about it a time or two, but he’d never actually done it until then.  The power and excitement of laying there naked on the towel, his body still warm from the shower... But it was the warmth of other parts of his body that demanded his attention.  
  
He was standing at attention now.  His hard member dripping with excitement about being brought out for show for someone, anyone at this point.  It’d been too long since he’d last had anyone serious enough in his life to really be naked around them let alone have sex.  Jack had left him months ago because he couldn’t understand Len’s art that he painted in his studio.  He often found himself half naked in there painting till the sun came up and sometimes on until it sank below the horizon again.  But Jack had never understood that about him.  Had called it a waste of time and had left when he realized he wasn’t going to be the center of attention.  And before Jack there had been Angelia  
  
Angelia had left him because he wasn’t modern enough for her tastes in music, TV shows, movies, etc.  The list was a mile long as she’d chide him over not having a Twitter or a Facebook account.  He’d only recently started using Myspace only to discover that it was already behind the times.  And on some level he kind of liked that it was.  Not that he’d ever take it or his Livejournal page down.  Hell, if he thought about it he might even have a Kiwibox account left somewhere on the dregs of the internet.  Technology wasn’t his thing.  He preferred to connect with real people, when they actually had something worth saying and listening to.  But Angelia hadn’t understood that and she’d left.  Before that... who knew anymore.  He’d kind of stopped keeping track for a while.  Who was that girl that Mick was trying to set him up with from the fire house?  Maria maybe?  And his own sister kept hinting that her yoga trainer had commented that he thought Len looked flexible enough. Not that he wanted to even know what photos of him she was sharing with the men she tried to fix him up with.  The last one had asked Len if he’d blow him under the table at the restaurant they were at.  
  
Exhibitionism in your own home while someone you found cute was watching was one thing.  But being lewd in a public space wasn’t his speed.  Speaking of being in his own home and being watched, Len’s cock gave a lurch, letting him know that it at least hadn’t forgotten about the fact that he was naked and the boy across the way was watching him.  So he closed his eyes and pictured the kid, what he might look like touching him as Len took himself in hand.  He loved the feel of his hand on the silky smooth skin of his towering groin.  
  


  
  
Did the sexy guy across the street realize his curtains were always open? He had to. He must just be that confident, or he didn’t know Barry was home. So Barry ducked behind his own curtain, clutched the fabric, watched the man slowly drag elegant fingers down his impressive–wow impressive–shaft. He could be a model for an art class. Or a really artistic porno…  
  
Barry shook his head. He knew the guy was a painter. Had seen him return from another room, probably his studio, covered in paint several times, even seen him carry a few paintings out. Barry loved what he’d seen of the man’s work. One, while an abstract oil painting, had reminded Barry of a dragon roaring up a mountainside in teal and purple and orange.  
  
Barry was a writer. He painted pictures very differently, but he loved the art his neighbor created. Iris was always telling him he should do a blog tour on his books, have a website. Sure he sold his books on Amazon, but he preferred going to conventions, talking with fans about his silly science fiction. Was it so wrong to want that human connection? Lately he didn’t get much of that in any other aspect of his life.  Patty moved to a new city. Needed to work on her own dreams. Before that, Ethan, a remnant from Barry’s college days, had been too controlling. Barry had to get away. Before that…urg. It didn’t matter.  
  
What would have been a moan if he could hear his neighbor brought him back to the scene. The man’s head had dropped back, neck arched and long, as he stroked himself so slowly, no longer watching what was on his TV. Barry should not be watching this. It was awful of him, indecent…but he couldn’t look away, and palmed himself to the rhythm of his unknowing partner.  
  
It wasn’t the last time Barry caught his neighbor after that. There were many, so many. On the sofa. In a chair. Stretched out on a blanket on the floor to work himself open with a toy as big as the man himself, and wow, had that time made Barry blush, and touch himself so furiously, he came long before the other man.  
  
Now, several nights after the first time he’d watched the man cum, his neighbor was covered in paint again. Sweaty. Shirtless. Sweats hanging low off his hips. Barry stood exposed at the window, not thinking to hide himself. He was tired, had been writing all night, but barely had a new chapter done. He needed inspiration. He’d already created an unexpected love interest for his main character. A man. Who wasn’t supposed to be the end game, but might be now. He might be.  
  
Barry’s neighbor went to sit on the sofa but thought better of it, still covered in paint. He swiped a hand through the sweat and icy blue color on his chest. It was dry enough not to smear. Then he drew his hand slowly down into the waistband of his sweats. Relief filled his face as he touched himself. Barry watched the movement of his hand inside the fabric, the man just standing there in front of the window.  
  
Shit, just like Barry was! He needed to move, had to pretend he wasn’t watching, walk away, now!  
  
But than cool blue eyes darted across the way, a sly tilt to the side of his head, smirk on his face, catching Barry…and not caring. He liked it. He…he knew Barry had been watching.  
  
He slid his sweats down his hips.  
  


  
  
Len loved how the window was low enough to expose his whole groin to his wide eyed neighbor.  Whoever had designed these apartments must have figured that once you were up so high you could have lower windows.  Len’s smile was almost as big as other things as he watched his neighbor watching him.  He’d planned so carefully to let this go on, to keep going with their flirtation of slowly eye fucking one another when the other wasn't watching, but when he’d noticed his audience standing there waiting for him to take his place on the stage of his own design, it’d been too perfect to resist.  Len slowly brought a hand down the center of his well toned body.  
  
Stopping to tease the edge of the swath of paint on his chest before his fingers went farther down, grasping himself and giving a slow deliberate stroke.  Toying with himself to prolong the pleasure and pressure that was already building up.  He hadn’t felt this on edge in ages.  But there was just something about that tall kid and his handsome face that made him want to perform.  He’d seen him writing away on his laptop several nights before, and watched him reading.  Len had went to the trouble of looking to find some of the same books so he could know what the kid liked.  But he’d almost stopped breathing when he’d seen the kid’s face on the author’s page of one of the books.  Barry Allen.  
  
Len was pretty sure he was the only one out of the pair of them that knew the other’s name.  But he hadn’t been sure what to do with that knowledge till now.  As he stood there smiling and stroking himself ever so slowly he stood and preened as he felt Barry’s eyes on him.  Oh that was a feeling he had never realized he needed until he felt it.  He stopped touching himself and knelt down for a sketch pad he’d left against the wall.  He quickly grabbed a magic marker and wrote something down before turning it, sitting the pad on top of his cock.  
  
The hard length jutting out like some kind of shelf to hold up the sketch book, his cock resting on the window sill, he smirked, flexing himself to draw Barry’s eye down to the pad.  In thick black lettering it read:  
  
You’ll have to let me know if you enjoy the show, Barry.  - Len.  
  
He loved the way the other man’s face was suddenly engulfed in a flagrant blush; multiple shades of crimson played across his face like a master work of art, an explosion of color.  Len was going to have to paint him later... for now there were more pressing things at hand.  
  


  
  
He knew his name. He knew his name. _He knew his name._  
  
Should Barry be weirded out? No…no. It wasn’t difficult to discover Barry’s name. He wasn’t famous exactly, barely made enough from his books to pay the rent sometimes, but his face was still plastered on either the back of or inner flap of every one of his books—something he still wanted to sneer at every time he saw them, but his agent, Iris, had insisted.  
  
“With that adorable face, Barry, you want people to see you. It’ll help sell more books.”  
  
For a while Barry had wondered if her words meant she liked him as much as he’d liked her when he first hired her, but…no, she had someone else in her life, and Barry didn’t really know what he wanted.  
  
A sexy artist putting on a naked show for him at seven stories up, apparently.  
  
Len. His name was Len. Barry wondered if it was short for anything—nothing about this man made Barry think short so far—when he became distracted by the sketch pad being set aside, and the man—Len—backing up toward his sofa. Since he was a little…dirty with paint, he grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa and laid it out, then sat back so he remained facing Barry, so very much on display, the perfect view right to the way his legs crooked up and spread open, hand trailing down through the sweat and paint again, down his stomach, around his length…  
  
This was so different with the man’s eyes occasionally flicking up from looking at himself…to look at Barry. A smirk. A lick of his lips. The heat in those blue eyes—fuck. Had he been putting on a knowing show for Barry all this time?  
  
The sofa didn’t have an arm at the end, just an open drop off from a chaise, meaning nothing obscured Barry’s perfect, tantalizing view. Len’s thumb passing over his slit, his other hand reaching down to grip his balls, then trail lower…lower…teasing at his entrance like he might—oh god.  
  
Len brought that hand back up to his mouth, sucked on his pointer finger, getting it so wet, sopping. Then he brought it down again, and as he stroked himself, he pressed inside with that wet finger, watching Barry as if to say…this could be you touching me. Barry wanted that. He wanted to cross the street, rush his way into the other man’s apartment and…  
  
No, not yet. First, Barry wanted to give a little back. He swallowed low, his cheeks on fire…as he started to undo his jeans and slid them down his legs, kicked them off, ran a hand up his chest beneath his T-shirt as he tugged his underwear just slightly down, showing off hipbones but nothing else just yet. He was so hard though, Len had to see that. Those ice blue eyes raked over every inch of Barry.  
  
Len nodded encouragement. _Keep going,_ Barry, he seemed to say, as he watched, and fingered himself, and stroked himself, and let his mouth fall open at the combination that for Barry, too, was almost too hot to handle.   
  


  
  
Fuck, the kid was hot.  Len watched as he slowly lowered the last barriers of clothing that he was wearing till Barry was standing there, face red as a tomato from his blush, and a little self conscious about being so utterly well and truly naked in front of Len like this.  His eyes seeking out Len’s for approval and he gave it.  
  
His eyes holding Barry’s as long as he could before he looked down and drank in the bared flesh before him with hungry eyes.  Oh he wished they were closer together, so he could wrap his body around what stood before him, separated only by the distance of the space between their apartments.  It hadn’t felt like all that much till now.  But as he looked longingly upon Barry, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold out for long.  
  
Twining a second finger in with the first, he felt his back arch of its own accord, struggling to keep his eyes open and on Barry, his attention split between himself and the sight of Barry as his hand shakily took him into his own grasp.  The kid was beautiful.  A work of art in his own right.  Angles and curves in just the right places to shape up into someone who clearly wasn’t aware of just how fucking hot he was.  
  
Which only served to make him all the more attractive to Len.  Someone that hot who didn’t even know it.  He’d known men who knew how handsome they were, and what their beauty did to people, and used it like a weapon against others.  But something told him that Barry wasn’t even remotely in that camp of thinking.  Something about the way he held himself, so unsure and untried.  As if he was untested at looking sexy on purpose.  Len began to picture him on his knees, those beautiful lips wrapped around his flared arousal, and as he twisted his fingers one last time, he managed to look directly into Barry’s eyes as he emptied himself across his chest, painting himself in white to match the shades of blue, even managing to hit himself along his jaw as he finished.  
  
He laid back, catching his breath, but nodded reassuringly to Barry.  The kid hadn’t popped yet, and Len wanted to watch that.  And as he lay there, still long, full, and proud, he let Barry drink in the sight of him to help fuel whatever fantasy the kid was cooking up in his beautiful mind.  
  


  
  
He’d watched Len cum so many times, but this was different. Both of them aware, watching each other, experiencing it together in every way other than being in the same room. And Barry was naked too now, bare in front of his window, painfully hard and stroking himself as he stared at the mixture of paint and cum and sweat across Len’s chest and high enough to streak the edge of his jaw.  
  
Len didn’t make any moves to clean himself yet, just laid back, slid his fingers from himself slowly, and watched Barry, waiting for him to follow after him.  
  
Barry was already so close. His own sofa wasn’t angled right, but if he backed up enough, got down on the floor, Len should still be able to see him clearly with how low the window went. So he did. Took a step back, another, another, turned and got down on his knees. Barry was…rather flexible. His long limbs, while skinny, could coil rather extraordinarily, as well as his back. He reached behind him—wait. He wet his fingers in his mouth as Len had, staring at the wall, his profile to Len, his face too hot for him to look at the other man while he did this, only…he had to peek, had to make sure Len could see him clearly.  
  
Fingers still in his mouth, his other hand wrapped around his cock, while he was on his knees, he glanced aside. Waited.  
  
He saw Len nod, bite his lip, prompting Barry to continue.  
  
Barry reached back with his wet fingers, knees spread apart enough that he could easily grip himself and tease his entrance at the same time. He imagined Len behind him, opening him up, touching him from around his waist, kissing his neck… He shuddered.  
  
One finger made him feel like he was going to cum already, which was too soon, not yet, shit, not yet, so he stilled his hand, squeezed, forced himself to be still while the other hand worked inside him. One finger. Then…two. Deeper, mouth falling open, head dropped back, and then, finally, finally he started to stroke again.  
  
It was still over too soon. He shot all over his hand, a little on his chest, but mostly on the carpet. He panted in the aftermath, and reminded himself that he had an eager audience, who he really, really wanted to be in the same room with so he could lick the cum from that paint-speckled chest.  
  
Oh god, Barry was turning into an exhibitionist and a voyeur, and he was finding new fetishes by the moment with this guy.  
  
He dropped his hands forward to catch himself, just panting on hands and knees a moment as he looked over at Len—who had risen from the sofa, half hard again, still stained with blue and silver and…white. He picked up the sketchbook. When he turned it around this time, it had a phone number on it.  
  
Barry sat back on his ankles, half of him nervous, the other half sort of wishing it had been Len’s apartment number instead, but then…he wasn’t sure if he could walk without wobbly legs just yet. His cell phone was within reaching distance on his coffee table. He snatched it up, not caring that neither of his hands were exactly sanitary, and dialed the number.  
  
Len replaced the sketch pad for his own cell phone, standing there again, naked and dirty and gorgeous.  
  
“Come back to the window, Barry. Let me see you.”  
  
Oh god his _voice_. Barry was definitely a goner now.  
  


  
  
The sound of Barry’s panting, his breath catching in his throat before he said 'sure' and reappeared in front of the window, feeling more or less self conscious by the look of how he was holding himself.  Len smiled as he spoke.  
  
“I think we made a mess of ourselves.” He chuckled as Barry smiled and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, we did.”  
  
“Wouldn’t change a second of it.  Watching you come a part just now, had to be the best part for me.” Len smiled, well aware that he should head to the shower before too long.  
  
“I don’t know about that...” Barry’s blush had an almost audible sound to it judging by the way his voice behaved.  
  
“Trust me.  You’re something special.” Len felt his heart swell, he had fallen for this boy, hook line and sinker.  He was gone.  “I don’t know about you but I could use a good shower about now.  If it wasn’t such a walk I’d suggest you come over and use mine.” He loved the way Barry seemed to flail about at the mere suggestion of them sharing a shower together when they’d done little more then eye fucking from across the way.  “But seeing as it is so far away... And I actually have to pass out now, I wanted to ask if you would mind coming to my exhibit this weekend.  They’re showing some of my pieces and I’d like you to come...” Len knew he sounded vulnerable just then, but it was all he wanted in life right then, to get Barry to his show.  
  


  
  
Barry couldn’t deny the instant combined thrum of disappointment that their night had to end here, because damn, sharing a shower was such an appealing idea, and excitement at actually engaging with Len in person, in the same room, with the chance to not only see more of his art, but get to know him better too.  
  
“Uhh…y-yeah, sure! Is the one with the dragon going to be there?”  
  
“Dragon?” Len cocked his head slightly, tease of a smirk on his lips.  
  
Barry felt like such an idiot for never thinking before he spoke. Standing there naked meant his blush went everywhere, and he knew Len could see it. “It’s a dragon in my head. Sorry, you probably have a totally different idea. I saw you finish it a couple weeks ago, bring it out of your studio, all teal, purple, and orange, and in the center–”  
  
“Ah, I know the one. You like it? A dragon…interesting. Half the fun sometimes is discovering what a piece means to someone else. It’ll be there.”  
  
“Cool! Yeah, I…really liked that one. You have a way with color. I like your realistic style too, but something about that abstract one stuck with me.”  
  
“Thank you. Were you working on a new book tonight, Barry? I very much enjoyed your last one. Didn’t realize of course that it was your own work until I got to your picture at the back. Nice surprise for me. You’re quite talented.”  
  
Oh god, Len read his last book?! “Th-thank you?” Barry positively squeaked. “And uhh…yeah, I’m working on something new. But I’ve been having trouble. Maybe… maybe you could take a look at where I’m stuck, and…tell me what you think?”  
  
“So the gallery on Saturday and then back to your place? Sounds like a date.”  
  
Oh god, oh god. Barry struggled not to scratch the back of his neck; he was so obviously flustered already. “Is that okay? No, like…expectations or anything, I just–”  
  
“A date it is. I’ll text you the information about the show.”  
  
“Thanks, yeah! I can’t…I can’t wait.”  
  
“Good. Looking forward to it myself. See you soon…Scarlet,” Len signed off with a eye-glance down Barry’s blushing body. Damn, that nickname was probably going to stick, yet Barry didn’t really mind.  
  
He held his phone limply as he watched Len wave, walk across his living room, and disappear into the bathroom. Barry backed away feeling a lightness, a fluttering in his chest, because that had been seriously hot, and amazing, and wow, now they had a date, like a real plan to meet, and talk, and come back to his place.  
  
Barry glanced around his apartment. He needed to clean, and prepare, and not expect the evening to end in sex, even though he seriously, seriously hoped it did.  
  
He’d clean the carpet later. Right now, all he wanted was a hot shower, and to imagine all the ways Len might touch him if he was in there with him.  
  


  
  
Their week passed slowly, punctuated by daily little shows and phone calls while they sat at their windows and talked for hours.  Many of which where Len was wearing very little or nothing at all while they talked.  Barry had taken to dressing in kind, sometimes going without a shirt and sometimes just wearing his boxers.  Slowly but surely he was getting comfortable with his body and being seen by Len.  It felt like they were getting closer to one another by the day.  
  
Even still it was a little jarring when Barry got ready to leave for his morning coffee and he found an envelope addressed to him stuck under his door.  He opened it and felt a wave of shock flow through him.  He knew the gallery that Len’s show was going to be at.  He knew all too well how exclusive they were; Iris had dragged him to a couple shows there to meet people she wanted him to network with to promote his books.  They’d even done a couple parties there once for one of the last ones he’d published.  
  
Hell that’d been the place one of his ex’s had made a horrific scene that had made him feel so self-conscious to have his dirty laundry aired in such a public place.  He’d been so mortified that it had caused his self-imposed exile for far too long to think about without feeling apprehensive about his chances of making this work.  He was so busy trying to talk himself in and out of going that he barely heard the phone go off as he paced the room.  He picked it up.  
  
“You know you look very cute when you’re that nervous.” The voice came cross the phone before Barry could even think of a greeting.  
  
“Hey.” Barry blushed as he turned towards the window, taking in the shirtless Len who was covered in paint again.  
  
“Hey yourself, handsome.  I just wanted to see if the tickets got up to you.  All this talking and I realized we’d never exchanged apartment numbers, so I thought I’d try a bold move and pay a kid to take it up to your place...” Len smiled, warm and inviting as he leaned against the windowsill.  
  
“You didn’t have to...”  
  
“I wanted to.  I wanted to make sure you had the tickets and knew where it was going to be held.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m... familiar with the place.” Barry sighed.  
  
“Oh that wasn’t a happy voice.” Len frowned.  “Bad memories?” His voice was full of concern.  
  
“Yeah...” Barry felt his shoulders slump as he looked out the window at Len.  
  
“Feel like making better memories there?”  
  
Barry thought about it, he liked Len and he felt like he might be ready to try again.  He looked out the window into Len’s sweet face and spoke from the heart.  
  
“For you I will.” He smiled, he could heart Len’s breathing hitch on the phone as he tried to control the emotions in his voice.  But it was clear that he’d given a good answer.   
  
They talked for a little while longer before Barry had to leave for his coffee, agreeing to meet at Barry’s apartment and drive over together.  Len was going to be making runs back and forth delivering some final works for the show tonight.  He joked the paint might still be wet on a couple of them.  They parted with smiles and went about their day.  In fact it wasn’t until later when Barry was wondering what he should wear and had pulled out his best suit when he heard his doorbell.   
  
He was still just in his boxers when he went to check the peep hole and blushed when he saw Len’s face through the hole.  
  
He opened the door without really thinking, revealing Len in a tux so black it was almost navy blue in places.  His ice blue tie complimented his skin while the tux brought out his eyes.  Even fully dressed he looked like sex on legs and it was all Barry could do not to drool just then.  
  
“Wow.” Barry grinned, still holding the door.  
  
“Wow yourself.  I suddenly feel way over dressed.” Len grinned, and Barry blinked confused before looking down and realizing he was standing in front of his open door in just his boxers.  
  
“Oh fuck.” He muttered before ducking behind the door and inviting Len in.  
  
“Don’t change on my account...” Len grinned as he walked in and let Barry close the door.  
  
“I was just picking out my suit when you rang.” Barry ducked back into the bathroom and Len tilted his head to watch the movement of his ass through the thin cotton boxers that hugged Barry’s curves.  Oh he liked being up closer to Barry.  
  
“Yeah, I’d have loved to go in just an old ratty T-shirt and some faded jeans, but my sister would kill me if I went to a show dressed in anything less than this.” Len lamented.  
  
“Sister?” Barry stuck his head out, he knew Len had a sister, but didn’t know how she’d be connected to tonight.  
  
“Her building, her rules.” He shrugged.  
  
“Your sister owns the gallery?” Barry’s eyes showed just how shocked he was.  He’d met the woman who ran it before.  A tall blonde woman with a fashion sense that seemed to go with the art she had on display.  Barry wondered if some of the art he’d seen there didn’t come from Len’s studio.  His face went a little slack with all the thinking, his body instinctively moving backwards and exposing that he’d only just got the suit pants on.  
  
“Yeah.  She’s done pretty well for herself.  She married this tech genius Cisco a few years ago.  You wouldn’t think they’d mesh, but he’s one of the most devoted people I’ve ever met.  And they’re good together.” He smiled as he thought about it, trying not to eye-fuck Barry’s body while the kid tried to get dressed.  
  
“Oh.” Was about the only intelligent thing that came out of Barry’s mouth as he ducked back in to finish dressing.  
  
“Kind of glad we met over here and all.  It would have been much more embarrassing if we’d met at my place.” Len smiled as he spoke.  
  
“Why’s that?” Barry asked trying to get his shirt buttoned.  
  
“Because I’m not wearing anything under this tux,” Len said from behind Barry, looking at the kid in the mirror that Barry was dressing in front of.  
  
  
  


  
  
Barry fumbled with the last button on his shirt, completely forgetting how his thumbs worked. Len wasn’t wearing underwear. He’d just admitted that he wasn’t wearing underwear! Now was not the time to get a hard-on when they had a timetable to stick to, damn it.  
  
“Too much?” Len’s voice carried into the bathroom as he stood just outside, grinning as he leaned against the wall watching Barry. “No obligations about tonight, but then considering how things have been going…”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Barry said, fumbling with his bowtie now, which was a deep burgundy in color, and failing miserably at tying it. He knew his cheeks were beet red, and so he tried to keep his eyes on the mirror. “I mean…I think we’re a little past anything being inappropriate. Not that I’m only interested in going to the gallery to get into your pants! I really do love your art. I might even buy something tonight. My agent’s always telling me I should spruce the place up, add some color around here.”  
  
“Mmm…I’ll give you first crack at whatever piece you want. Maybe even a discount.” Len’s voice sounded closer for some reason.  
  
“No, you don’t have to do that. I insist on full price. Your work is worth it.” Barry turned toward Len after snatching up his jacket and swinging it around his shoulders only to find the man inside the doorway now, moving in closer to box Barry into the bathroom.  
  
Barry’s breath caught. That smile and the heat in his blue eyes—wow were they blue; Barry had never really been able to tell from across the street—was enough to make his face flush further. He swallowed thickly and tried to catch his breath as Len reached forward to do up the buttons on his jacket for him.  
  
His hands were exquisite. And his _fingers_ …  
  
Oh Barry should not think too hard about his fingers.  
  
“Such lovely moles and freckles you have, Barry,” Len said, fastening the buttons slowly and then helping him straighten his tie before smoothing his hands out across Barry’s lapels. His gaze strayed to Barry’s neck and lips before reaching his eyes. “The pictures on your book jacket don’t do you justice. You know…this is the first time we’ve been so close, despite all those chats and…other activities.” He smirked. “First chance to really _touch_ you.”  
  
Barry shivered as Len’s cool fingers reached up past the collar of his shirt, held his neck and the curve of his jawline, like the promise of way more than they had time to fulfill. But damn it, Barry wanted to…just one moment to—  
  
Len’s cell phone went off. He groaned, close enough to Barry’s lips that he felt the puff of his breath. “Lisa, no doubt,” Len said, as he pulled away to answer the call. “Later though…” He scanned down Barry’s body.  
  
All Barry could do was nod. Because, oh yes, there would definitely be a later.  
  
“We’re on our way, Lise, stop pestering,” Len answered, offering Barry a wink before he ducked back out of the bathroom.  
  
Barry turned back to look in the mirror. Checked his hair. Checked his suit, his tie. Socks and shoes and he’d be ready to go. Maybe if he moved fast enough while Len took that call, he could slip his underwear off and his pants back on before the other man noticed. Quid pro quo and all that.


End file.
